


Armitage Hux One-Shots

by DandyAceInSpace



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Finger Sucking, Fluff, Gore, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 06:54:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17219054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DandyAceInSpace/pseuds/DandyAceInSpace
Summary: Anon Requested: hux and 27, also i really enjoy your writing, you make my days <3#27:  “Daddy has work to do. How about you get under my desk and help me out?”





	1. Daddy Kink Sentence Starters - NSFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon Requested: hux and 27, also i really enjoy your writing, you make my days <3
> 
> #27: “Daddy has work to do. How about you get under my desk and help me out?”

The incessant beeping from your datapad drags you from your dreams, begging to be paid attention to. You groan in annoyance, pulling the covers over your head in the slim chance that maybe it will make the sound go away. It, of course, does not and you force your eyes open, rubbing away the signs of sleep with your palm. You push the covers down your body, sitting up in your spot to stretch your arms above your head. A few pleasant pops travel down your spine and you sigh in relief. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you stand, knowing that your legs need the movement, you lift the datapad from its spot on the bedside table.

 

The time reads 9:03 PM. Much later than you wanted to be sleeping too. You had retired to your quarters around 7:00 PM, quickly jumping into bed for a nap. You wanted your energy to be up so that when 8:30 rolled around, you wouldn’t be crawling around the ship, nor would your sleep schedule be ruined. But alas, here you were, groggy and already dreading your early shift in the morning.

 

You input your password into the device, noticing a message from your boyfriend that he had marked as urgent. Dramatic as ever. You tap the notification, hoping for yet another adorable picture of Millicent. Instead, you see paragraphs upon paragraphs of text, and the alarm of worry began to go off. Armitage didn’t like to leave electronic traces that detailed your relationship. The last thing he wanted was for the data to be used as blackmail, or worse, lead to someone kidnapping you.

 

_Y/N,_

 

_I’m deeply concerned at your absence. Granted, I know that this was not the most romantic of ideas, -_

 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

 

You skim over the rest of the message, ignoring his request for a reply and deleting the message.

 

You’d forgotten your date with him.

 

You can’t believe yourself, you can’t believe how stupid you are! You slept through the date that he planned just for you. He’s been incredibly busy, so you both agreed to have dinner in his office while he finished paperwork. He did this just because he didn’t want you to feel ignored. Gods, you want to punch yourself.

 

Easily discarding the datapad onto the bed, you smooth out your clothes, silently thanking the universe that you fell asleep in them. You scurry to the restroom, checking your hair and fixing any stray pieces. Good enough. Though you suppose you don’t need to look pretty to beg for forgiveness.

 

With one last glance over, you bound out of your quarters with light feet and a heavy heart. You don’t let anyone get in your way as you race to Hux’s office. You’re even sure that you may have told Kylo to fuck off, which you’ll definitely pay for later, but nothing can compare to the punishment that is knowing you hurt Hux. While abrasive to everyone else, he was nothing but soft and sweet to you. Though he’d never let you say it, you both know that you would easily die for him.

 

You’re able to turn the ten minute walk into a five minute walk. You stop in front of the door, once again straightening out your clothing. Anyone else would use the intercom next to the door to buzz in, but you knock against the metal door. It feels more intimate in a way. Maybe it’s the way he perks up, knowing that it’s you and not someone just coming to bother him.

 

The door whooshes open, and he sits against the far wall, pen in hand as he signs away on frivolous documents. Quietly you step in and make your way towards him, but pause when he sighs, frustrated, setting the pen down as he sits back further into his chair. He crosses his arms over his chest as he focuses on you. You see the fire raging in his eyes, ready to consume you in your entirety.

 

“How nice of you to -”

 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble out, cutting him off, “I’m so sorry, Armitage. I fell asleep and forgot to set an alarm. I would never do this on purpose. You know I wouldn’t miss it -  _miss you_ \- for the world.”

 

Hux pinches the bridge of his nose before patting his thigh. You subtly nod, treading the last of the gap between you and him. You round the desk and he pushes himself and his chair a little farther from the edge of the desk. Taking your spot on his lap, feet dangling above the floor, his left hand wraps around your waist. He pulls you closer to him and places a sweet kiss on your cheek.

 

“It’s alright, love. I was just worried that you finally came to your senses.” He smiles faintly, his distress evident as his right hand lazily caresses your thigh.

 

“Armitage,” you chide, “how many times do I need to remind you that you’re stuck with me?”

His smile widens as it turns more genuine. You lean in and share a tender kiss with him, keeping your foreheads connected when your lips part.

 

“It’s much too late for dinner, now. Why don’t you come to bed with me?” You whisper.

 

He finds the idea much too tempting, but unfortunately, duty calls. “I can’t, love,” he whispers back to you. However, with the way his hand slides further up your thigh and the shift in his eyes, you know that he plans on doing something other than his work. He palms the swell of your ass as he places a few chaste kisses on your neck.

 

“  **Daddy has work to do. How about you get under my desk and help me out?**  ” He purrs against your skin. You gasp as your thighs clench together as the rush of excitement dashes up your spine. He knows that he has you wrapped around his finger when he talks like that. He hums in amusement before pulling back to look at you, smirking as he waits for you to move.

 

You huff as you slide off his lap and onto your knees. He spreads his legs, resting his head in his hand, elbow supporting the weight on the armrest of the chair. His other hand brushes your hair back to expose your face. You know he loves to watch you, so damn you if you don’t put on a show.

 

“You’re cruel,” you fuss as you undo the button to his pants. He chuckles down at you but it immediately turns into a whimper when you free his half-hard cock from its confines. You teasingly run your nail along the underside of his shaft, watching him from under your lashes as he shudders under your touch. You wait until he meets your gaze, slowly licking your lips when his lust blown eyes connect with yours. You giggle when you see his cock twitch underneath you. His face heats up and he tugs on your hair, scolding, “Fucking minx.”

 

You shift closer to him, holding his legs open with your body. You place a fleeting kiss on the head, smearing the beads of precum on your lips. He hisses out in pleasure when you take the entirety of the tip into your mouth. You swirl your tongue along the skin before running it along the slit, a feeling that has him already mumbling obscenities.

 

“Fuck... you look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock. Such a gorgeous little mouth…” He praises in between breaths.

 

His words go straight to your cunt, your own arousal throbbing in your panties. You let out a soft moan, letting the vibrations pleasure him as you take him further down your throat. You’re able to easily take his length, having done it so many times before. You swallow around his shaft, hollowing out your cheeks as you suck him off.

 

“That’s it baby girl,  _ah_ ,  _just_ like that,” he mewls, bucking his hips up into your mouth. You let him hold your head in place as he fucks your mouth. He’s not overly rough, but every once in awhile he hits a spot in your throat that causes you to choke. Though apologies slip from his lips, you feel the way his cock pulses in your throat when you gag.

 

Your hands grip onto his thighs, though you desperately want one to be on your clit. He’s incredibly tantalizing when he’s like this. High on lust, using you for his own pleasure as if you’re just a warm little sleeve for his cock. His fingers are tangled in your hair as he praises and degrades you in the same sentence.

 

“Such a good little whore, aren’t you? Always so eager to swallow my cum.”

 

Your lips are swollen and red from his abuse and you can feel your jaw going numb. His thrusting becomes more erratic and as he bites his lip, you know he’s close. You close your eyes as he slips from your mouth, sticky strands of his cum decorating your face as he rides through his orgasm. You tentatively lick away any that land near your mouth. Opening your eyes, you meet his stare as his chest heaves. You gather the remainder of his cum with your fingers, taking your time to clean your fingers of it, sliding each digit along your tongue.

 

He pulls you back up to his lap, immediately capturing your lips in a needy kiss.

 

“Perhaps you’ll need to skip our dates more often,” he chuckles against your lips. You respond by biting his lower lip and dragging his hand to your aching cunt.


	2. Hux Saves Reader In Combat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Violence and some gore

You have to admit, you didn’t think that your day would end up like this. The mission was simple enough for a rookie, though the clearance level quickly rose when the Rebels decided to ambush the platoon.

Currently tucked away in some brush, you fumbled with your weapons, breath slow but heavy as your mind screamed. You weren’t supposed to be back in the field yet. A fact that your shoulder reminded you of as it throbbed in pain from your, quick and harsh, duck for cover. Should you ever get ahold of yourself and your thoughts, you doubt your joint would even let you lift the weapon to defend yourself. You have no choice but to hide and hope to survive.

The hum of blaster shots surrounded you completely, coming in from all sides. Periodically, a scream would break the air and you just hoped that it didn’t come from one of your men. Sure, stormtroopers were expendable, but neither you or General Hux would hear the end of it should you run back with your tails between your legs. And, knowing Hux, all of you will die before he gives Kylo Ren the chance to mock him.

You peek around the edge of the shrubbery just to see a stormtrooper stumble and fall to the ground next to you. Their helmet was cracked, a hole where a mouth guard should have been, revealing glimpses of olive skin covered in sweat, and a pair of lips pale in fear. Blood was spilling out of their back from multiple wounds, puddling around them as they weakly reached a hand out to you.

“Please,” came a young female voice, “I don’t want to die.”

You didn’t get the chance to comfort her. A male rebel, presumably the one that caused her wounds in the first place, ended her life with one last shot to the back of her head.

You screamed, for this act of violence and fury startled you. The man immediately turned to you, raising his blaster as he lined up the shot. All you could do was scramble backwards on ground in a futile attempt to escape. You had come to terms with your death a long time ago, but you never thought you would die a coward, incapacitated by sheer bad luck.

The man smiled down at you as you raised your arms, bracing for the searing hot blast of death. But, it never came. When you opened your eyes, you found the man was no longer smiling. Pain was etched onto his lips while his eyes shone in surprise. His chest sported a spear through the middle, not daring to budge as he fell to the ground next to his victim, and revealed the last man you ever thought would save you.

Hux is huffing as he steps over the bodies. His hair is disheveled, face red in anguish, and greatcoat abandoned for quicker movements. He grabs your hand and slings your arm over his shoulders as he hoists you up from the ground. He’s unbelievably sweaty and reeks of blood, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“I didn’t know you could be more useless than you already are.”

“I’m happy to see you too, General."


	3. Good Vibrations - NSFW

_“A gift,” he told you, “Just something to make you_ **_feel good._  ** _”_

 

You should’ve known better than to trust Armitage Hux when he said he wasn’t the jealous type. It’s not that he was malicious or vindictive -  _wait, yes he was_ \- but he wasn’t with you. Not usually.

 

It had been a simple conversation with a fellow Lieutenant - Mitaka - innocent and lighthearted. You had been suppressing a few giggles when your boyfriend approached the both of you, asking what was so funny. You both cleared your throats, smiles and giddiness dying. It wasn’t appropriate workplace conversation, so you lied, telling him, “Nothing,” to save Mitaka’s ass. Only now, as you think back on it, do you remember the flare of Hux’s nostrils and stiffening in his posture. He did not take kindly to your laughter at the hands of another man.

 

The vibration between your legs dulled down, a slow and teasing pulse massaging your folds as you briskly walked down the corridor. Your body felt intensely hot, and no doubt your face was flushed from both arousal and embarrassment. It didn’t help that you were in the cafeteria when the initial sensation began, letting out a loud squeak that had everyone staring in your direction.  _Damn him_ , you thought,  _I’m going to kill him. I’m going to ride him and then I’m going to kill him_.

 

You thought about going to the public refresher and removing the cursed panties. But, you have no way of carrying them back to your quarters discreetly. Not with the way they trembled so loudly. As if to punctuate the fact, the stimulation became unbearably fast, the dense fabric of your pants, thankfully, keeping it muffled.

 

Your heart rate pulsed in your ears, and you abruptly stop, leaning with one hand against the wall as you try to catch your breath. Your head feels like it's spinning as you hunch forward, thighs pressed tightly together.

 

“Lieutenant Y/N,” came a gentle yet powerful voice.  _No, no, fuck, of all the times_ -

 

You force yourself to stand up straight, wiping a faint hint of sweat from your forehead. “Supreme Leader”, you acknowledge with as much of a stable voice as you can manage.

 

He stops a few feet from you, gazing at you curiously through those deep brown eyes. “Are you alright? You don’t look well.”

 

“I’ve never-” you gasp, the vibration somehow increasing even more. And with your thighs clenched, it pushes the sensation straight into your clit. The silken material of the panties is warm and wet with your slick, and if you don’t get somewhere safe, it soon will begin to run down your thighs.

 

Kylo quirks an eyebrow at you, about ready to touch your arm when you take a harsh step back.

 

“I’ve never been better! But thank you for your concern, Supreme Leader. Your kindness knows no bounds,” you rush out, offering a nervous smile in hopes he’ll take it and leave you alone.

 

Instead, he continues to stare at you, as if he’s thinking it over. You’re about to take the initiative of leaving when a sharp, familiar, pain arrives in the base of your skull.  _No, nononono_ -

 

If you choose to look at the bright side of Kylo Ren reading your mind while your impossibly horny at the mercy of his counterpart, the pain of it did help in distracting you from your arousal. However, when the pain subsides, you fall back into your pit of self-pity as Kylo smirks.

 

And then he chuckles.

 

He passes by you in your mortified state, not before leaning down and whispering into your ear. “You’re right, things have never been better for you, have they? Perhaps you shouldn’t keep him waiting.” And with that he leaves you, his laughter echoing in the hallway.

 

Gathering what little dignity you have left, you race to your  _beloved_ ’s office, knocking furiously against the metal door instead of paging in. It slides open and quickly shuts behind you once you make your way in.

 

Your boyfriend leans back in his chair with a shit eating grin. He bites his lower lip before attempting to say something snarky. You don’t let him though, cutting him off before he can even begin.

 

“Don’t,” you command. His mouth falls back shut.

 

You begin to stride towards him, not without discarding your pants and the absolutely soiled panties along the way.

 

Taking a seat on the edge of his desk, his hands immediately grab a hold of your waist as his eyes drink in the sight of the sheen that coats your inner thighs. You run your hands through his hair, pulling sharply as he slips out from his chair and onto his knees before you.

 

“I hope you’re ready to clean up the mess you’ve made.”


	4. Based Off Of My Thirst - NSFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some sub/dom undertones with light praise kink. Oh!! and finger sucking.

After spending countless moments with your betrothed, you swear you could almost feel when he was angry. Not all emotions, just his anger. Any minor inconvenience or pin in his side sought you out through the halls, holding your lungs in its vice grip until the feeling was replaced. Sometimes it was a sudden disappearance, meaning good news came his way. Other times, it crept away slowly as he tired himself out or became focused on other things.

 

This is why you could feel him approaching the room before he ever reached the floor.

 

The door flung open, startling you even though you should have expected it. He quickly stomped in, face set in a heavy scowl and his bright orange hair in disarray. It reminded you of fire, that way it broke free from its usual hold. You wish he didn't use so much gel.

 

Noticing your staring, he ran his hands over his head, smoothing the strands back down. You look back to the book in your lap, though you had long since abandoned the words.

 

“I don't know how you can read when we're in the midst of a war.”

 

Oh yes, he was definitely pissed. He was never cruel to you, but the few judgments would slip past his lips occasionally. A side effect of being the only one willing or wanting to listen to him.

 

Closing the book, you set it on the coffee table without so much as a tap of noise. You feel his eyes on you, carefully watching every move you make. You can't blame him. After everything he told you about his past and present abuse, you doubt he will ever be able to trust that someone loves him unconditionally. He's waiting for you to start yelling at him, to call off your relationship, anything that he feels he deserves.

 

But you don't yell, don't speak pointedly. Instead, you turn to him with a warm smile and pat the cushion next to you. “Tell me what's wrong, my love.”

 

A brief sigh of relief graced his features before hardening back into annoyance. He joins you at your side, before crumbling like a defeated man, head resting on your shoulder as he huffs.

 

“Nothing is going as planned. Kylo grows more uncontrollable each day and this disgusting rebel scum...” He trails off, more mesmerized by you gently carding your fingers through his hair. You're happy to give his hair some much-needed relaxation by pulling it from his daily style. You'll convince him to ditch the tube of gel later.

 

“What happened with the Resistance?” You ask, hoping that venting will help him feel better.

 

“She bit my finger.” He pouts like a child, holding up his gloved hand.

 

“She… bit your finger?” You have to reiterate, a little confused.

 

He nods as he pulls the black leather material from his hand, showing you the red mark with indentations for where her teeth had been. No skin was broken, thank the stars. A brief flash of anger rolls through you, but you push it down for his sake. Love and affection are what he needs to hear right now.

 

Taking hold of his right hand with yours, thumbs intertwining as you bring the ‘wound’ to your lips for a soft kiss. He's enchanted, acting as if he's under a spell as he watches you with adoration. Then he smiles, a truly genuine smile that shines happiness, and you swear to yourself at that moment that you'll live your life to see it again.

 

“Better?” You ask with a small smile. Shaking his head yes, he falls back into his usual posture. The ghost of his smile still resides on his face. But he has deep purple bags under his eyes, and his skin looks almost ashen. He's unbelievably tired, stressed to the bone.

 

You don't have to move his hand far to bring it back to your lips. His lips, however, purse in confusion. After pressing another kiss to the side of his knuckle, you hum as you maneuver his finger so the pad of it rests against your lower lip.

 

He doesn't stop you, just watches with bated breath. Easily, you let his finger slip past your lips, and your eyes slide shut. Laving it over with your tongue as your teeth meet the third knuckle of his hand, you hear the small whimper he makes. Opening your eyes, you're met with vivid blue irises nearly swallowed whole by lusting pupils. Slowly, you pull back, a thin strand of saliva connecting you to his fingers.

 

Breathing heavily, his bottom lip worried between his teeth. But he scoots closer to you, pressing index and middle fingers to your lips in a silent plea. A plea you're too willing to answer to. His skin tastes faintly of leather, his normal cold skin contrasting with the wet heat of your mouth. You like to run your tongue in between each finger, lightly sucking and nibbling on the skin.

 

He retreats his fingers, tracing your bottom lip with saliva. Then he's kissing you as if it's the last thing he'll ever do. It's more tongue and teeth, but you take immense satisfaction from the taste of his mouth and the desperation in his actions. He pulls you onto his lap, his erection grinding in between your thighs as he peppers open-mouthed kiss to your neck.

 

“Oh, Armitage…” You sigh, content.

 

Pushing him back by his chest, you give him a few small and slow kisses before having him lie down on the couch. It's your turn to kiss and bite at his throat. You undo the belt around his waist, then the first buttons of his shirt. You just want a small portion of his chest exposed, there's not enough time to completely undress. The kisses trail to his chest where you suck deep red and purple marks onto the skin. It doesn’t take much to bring the blood rising to the surface of his porcelain skin.

 

Sitting straight up, you gaze down at him as you languidly grind down onto his clothed cock. You can feel the faint outline of it through your thin leisure shorts, letting out a quiet moan as it throbs beneath you. His pants must be unbearably tight by now, but you feel a need to tease him just a little bit. You want to wind him up and make sure he knows it was you who brought him to his sweet climax. His heavenly whimpers let you know that you’re succeeding.

 

Providing him with some relief, you lift your hips up far enough so he can push his pants and underwear down to his thighs. Then, he is frantically pulling your shorts down, kissing at exposed skin and hip bones. He murmurs soft “I love you”s against your flesh along with praise for your body and pleas to never leave.

 

“I could never leave you, my love. You’re everything to me,” you say as your thumb strokes his cheek.

 

Finally, after abandoning your short and panties, you gift him with the three words he wants to hear most.

 

“I love you,” you whisper into his ear before slowly taking his cock into your weeping cunt. Both of you let out breathless moans that fade into soft, shared giggles. His hands hold onto your hips, your arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders. Resting your forehead against his, you begin to rock your hips, gaining momentum as he gains confidence.

 

Your mouths are barely inches apart, inhaling and exhaling the other’s moans of pleasure. Exchanging sloppy kisses has never felt so good, not when he’s palming at your thighs and ass, nails leaving crescent moons in your skin.

 

His pubic bone rubs deliciously against your clit with each meeting thrust. He’s always been rather silent during sex, leaving his desire to faint pants and grunts. You, on the other hand, love to sing for him, desperate whimpers and lewd comments always leaving your lips.

 

“Oh!! Armitage, you feel  _so good_! You always feel  _so- so good_ , fuck! I love your cock, baby, don’t stop!”

 

And he loves to hear you sing. His smug smile is confirmation enough.

 

The walls are thin, and there is only one other room on this floor. Ren’s. No doubt he has heard each and every one of your trysts. You hope they keep him up at night when he wants to sleep, your own little payback for working your fiance to death.

 

“Please let me cum on your cock, Armitage! I’m so damn close-” You gasp.

 

Biting down on your lip, you rest your head in the crook of his neck as you feel your climax come. It’s not the best you’ve ever had, but you still feel whole knowing that you’ve done something to make Hux feel better. No yelling, no bitter tears. Just the two of you and your love for one another.

 

He follows close behind you. The pulsing of your own release being too much for him, and he pumps you full of his hot seed.

 

Both of you are panting heavy, resting in the other’s embrace as you wait for equilibrium. His hand shifts to your lower back, holding you close as he lies back down. He’s still buried deep inside of you, but you don’t mind to stay with him like that for a while longer. You know he has to leave soon, to go back to his post. But for now, he’s yours. Not the General of the First Order, but your Armitage, the loving man you want to spend your life with.


	5. Lovesick

Anybody who saw the two of you together could see how hopelessly infatuated he was with you. If you were in the vicinity, his mood would increase tenfold. If the cafeteria was serving a dessert you liked, he would make sure to sneak you extra pieces. He even granted you a special key card to his quarters, just so you could cuddle Millicent when you were upset. If he was there when you showed up, he would listen to your venting and make you a cup of tea.

“He’s just being nice,” you would say, shutting Phasma down every time she inevitably brought it up. “Please,” she would insist, “Think about who we are speaking of. Nice is not one the words many would use.”

Recently, whenever the two met up, she would always steer the conversation towards Hux. More importantly, she would talk about how he’s  _hopelessly in love with you_. That you need to  _date him_  because you are  _maddeningly head over heels for him_  as well.

“Neither is shy. I doubt that Hux…  _General Hux_ … would have problems with telling the whole world what he wants and why he deserves it. I don’t think wanting me would change that.” You sifted through the piles of paperwork on your desk. Phasma walked over and put her hand on the papers, pinning them to the desk. You tried in vain to remove her hand so that you may work, but the woman was a solid rock.

“He’s lived his entire life focused on one thing; power. Do you think he has the ability to compute his own emotions?” She looked down at you from the other side of your desk. She had a small smirk spread across her lips, and you knew she had a point.

You sigh and lean back in your chair with your hand folded lazily in your lap, “No…” “Exactly!” She said, pounding her fist on the desk with emphasis. “You need to talk to him,” she says as she turns her back to you. “My break’s over, I’ll see you later,” she grabs her helmet from the chair that sits across form your desk.

You rub your eyes with the palms of your hands before tucking a stray piece of hair back into its place. Phasms always spent her breaks in your office. You don’t know why she began the practice, but you both became immensely close because of it. She almost was to the door, helmet back on.

“Phasma?” you ask.

“Yes?” she replies with her now modulated voice.

“Why do you care so much about Hux’s love life?” you ask her playfully.

She lets out an exasperated sigh, “Because I’m tired of listening to him whine.” With that note, she exited the room.

Thankfully, your conversations went back to normal after that.

You did, in fact, speak to Hux about it over dinner. Admittedly, you always did have a  ~~ginormous~~  small crush on the man but work always kept your mind occupied. You assumed that it would be the same for him. As you found out later by Kylo, surprisingly, that was far from the truth. He always talked about you, trying to mask it behind being proud of your work. As Kylo described it, “He is a lovesick fool.”

But soon you were too. At your dinner with Hux, he completely enthralled you. As the night dragged on, his tone became serious as he talked on. It wasn’t about work, but the topic meant a lot to him. You couldn’t pinpoint the topic, you were too focused on his perfect lips to hear what he was saying. His cheeks were flushed pink, pale skin exaggerating the color. His brows were furrowed together, and his eyes were focused on you. They were intense, they were radiant, they were  _his_.

“Y/N?” He asked, licking his bottom lip before biting down on it. He was nervous, an emotion you had seen him only express once before, in front of Snoke.

“Yes?” you said, regaining your composure.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He was tapping his fingers anxiously on the table.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat it?” You hope he doesn’t catch on to the fact that you weren’t paying attention.

“Would you... consider being with me?” He rushes the question out. “Romantically,” he adds at the end.

 

You remember all of that to be about five years ago. Right now, you are standing next to the window in the living space of your shared quarters. The stars slowly danced by, brightening and dimming in their own language. Of course, he gets a window. The perks of being the General. You lean against the windowsill as the door opens to reveal the man himself.

He once told you that he had a routine of taking off his shoes and greatcoat when he first came back to his quarters. Now, he immediately rushes to your side, shoes and coat be damned. His arms wrap around your waist and his chin rests against the top of your head.

“Good day?” you asked as you leant away from the window and into him. He merely shrugs before turning you around in his grasp. He leans down to gently kiss you, still keeping you tightly in his arms.

You smile up at him as you stand up on your toes to place a small kiss on his nose.

Using his index and middle finger, he gently taps your lower back three times. He still struggles with expressing emotions, so you told him to tap you three times to convey the three words that terrified him most to say out loud.

“I love you too.”

But they were heavenly coming from you.


	6. His Lifeline - NSFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon requested: these smut prompts are just hjnbjksjjdj ahhh i really need you to write something with the lines 41 and 52. maybe something where Hux is being a workaholic and neglecting the reader? anyway, idk if you're taking requests but i'd really love it 💕💕
> 
> 41\. “If i have to stop what i’m doing, you won’t be able to walk for the next week.”
> 
> 52\. “We have to be quiet.”

It’s almost unsettling how quiet the Supremacy is during the night cycle. Wrapped in a fluffy black robe to cover your thinner silken nightgown, and matching black flats, you silently walk through the dim halls. You pass a few guards, but they don’t pay you any mind. None wish to be falsely accused of ogling the dear General’s wife. 

 

You huff out a soft laugh to yourself, knowing that the only one to accuse them of such would be your dear husband himself. He was always so fiercely protective of you. It made it that much harder to understand why he’s left you in a cold bed for the last two weeks.

 

The door is almost mocking as you stare down its metallic face. Your hand reaches out multiple times to punch in your access code but falls short of the buttons each time. You came here on an angry whim, fury and hurt fueling your movements, but now you feel defeated. Ready to give up and head back to your quarters, the door slides open, the grating of metal almost deafening without the daytime background noise of the ship.

 

It’s now or never. Stepping inside, you easily slip off your flats, thanking the Maker that his office is carpeted. After crossing the vast expanse of his office - honestly, how much did one need - you sit in the chair opposite to him. You look to him and then to the large window behind him that showcases the blackness of space. Stars twinkle, the colors of nebulas ebb and flow, as this hulking ship of misery speeds through.

 

It feels off. Armitage has always been a cold and calculating man; he has to be. This is different. He hasn’t even looked up from the small stack of papers; he just keeps scribbling away as he mutters nonsense. He has to acknowledge you eventually, right? You shift to the edge of your seat.

 

“I heard you coming to the door,” he says.

 

“What?”

 

“The door, I heard your footsteps approach then pause, so I opened the door.”

 

You left out a soft, “Oh.” How he was able to answer a question before you even thought to ask it, you don’t know. Maybe you were more tired than you seemed.

 

“You, um, you didn’t come to bed. You haven’t for weeks. I’m worried about you,” you say.

 

His lips pull up into a small smirk and he chuckles, “Worried? What for? You’re going to work yourself up over nothing.”

 

“It’s just, you work so hard all the time, and I’m worried you’re not sleeping or eating or-”

 

“Y/N, I’m a grown man, and I know how to take care of myself,” he says rather harshly.

 

“I know, I know, Armitage. I know you can,” you sigh, your voice becoming hushed as disappointment settled through you, “I miss you, I haven’t seen you in the day or at night. I just- I just miss my husband.”

 

He tuts in response. Your hands immediately fist at your robe, so you don’t slam them on the desk. You hoped he would at least have been happy to see you. Happy to know that you cared so much.

 

“And how do you hope to survive if I have to go on a mission? Be away from you for, possibly, months at a time?”

 

“Now you’re just being cruel! How dare you scorn my feelings?!” You bark at him. Still, he scribbles on.

 

“Don’t get upset, Y/N, what did I say about working yourself up over nothing? Anguish doesn’t suit you.” Again he smirks, a horribly charming smirk.

 

Tears have welled up in the corners of your eyes, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing his words get to you. It may be a little too late for that though.

 

“Am I just a pretty face to you?”

 

“Go to bed, my love. You’re tired,” he warns.

 

“No.”

 

For the first time this night, his head snaps up, and he looks at you. By the Maker, he actually looks at you.

 

“Excuse me?” He asks, not out of curiosity, but rather he’s not used to being disobeyed.

 

“I haven’t been able to sleep in two weeks. Going to bed will do nothing for me.”

 

His jaw tenses before he goes back to writing. Stubborn, stubborn man! But, unfortunately for him, you’re stubborn too. Perhaps that’s why your relationship has survived some of its worst rough patches. Pure spite.

 

You lean back in the chair and unfasten your robe, the room now unbearably hot. As you turn to hang it around the back of the chair, through the corner of your eyes, you can see Armitage not-so-subtly gazing at your nightgown. His eyes roam over your body, taking in the lithe outline of your back. When you turn back to face him, his head immediately drops back to his paperwork.

 

You glance down at your nightgown to see the fuss about it yourself. Its design was forgotten when you had left your room in a fit of rage to track him down. 

 

Silk and black, the hem barely covering your thighs when you were seated as you are now. Thin spaghetti straps have it loosely holding onto you, and the fabric was barely a touch above see-through. You never bothered with a bra when you slept, so no doubt that your nipple were exposed and visible if he would just look at you. Your panties weren’t anything glamorous, but they too were made of very little fabric. A surprise if he had just come home to you.

 

That was it. 

 

There have only been three arguments like the one you’re having now. Armitage always turns distant when he’s stressed. He convinces himself that he’s unworthy of everything he’s worked for. His title, his power, but most importantly - you. So he throws himself into work. If he can climb higher, gain more control, then he’ll finally be worthy. 

 

He needs to work.

 

But you’re going to awaken some more… carnal needs.

 

Letting out a yawn, you stretch your arms above your head, pushing your chest out. He glances at you for a mere second before returning to his work. So, you rest your hand on your knee before slowly dragging it up your thigh. You continue up your stomach, pulling the fabric higher so he can see the hem of your panties as it disappears between your legs. His writing falters, and you know that you’ve got his full attention. 

 

You drop the nightgown from your grip, arms coming to wrap around your frame as you fake being cold. But, of course, you push your breasts closer together. The fabric strains against the swell of them, nipples prominent and begging for him to free them.

 

He sighs in defeat, letting his pen drop to the desk. “ **If I have to stop what I’m doing, you won’t be able to walk for the next week** ,” he growls out.

 

You easily slide one of the straps down your shoulder, his eyes drinking in every moment. “You’ve neglected me, Armitage, left me unfucked for so long. Did you really think I wouldn’t take my pleasure into my own hands?”

 

He takes the papers and lines them up neatly before storing them in the drawer. He clears his desk of any other loose items before pushing his chair back from it. But he doesn’t rise. Instead, he merely pats his lap.

 

It was probably comical how desperate you looked as you ran from the chair to his lap. You couldn’t care though, couldn’t care at all. His hands felt euphoric as they traced up your thighs, your sides, his thumbs rubbing small circles into your hips. Even underneath you, he remained formidable, constant. 

 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders though they quickly abandon them for his hair. His lustrous hair, always so soft, so so enticing to touch. He groans happily when you carefully scratch his scalp; he always did find it comforting. You smile to yourself, burying your face in the crook of his neck and shoulder, playing with the strands of ginger hair.

 

Oh, how you’ve missed him, his warmth, his scent. Coffee, pine, and spice, you swore up and down to yourself. Nothing like the metal and plastic of the stormtroopers. Nothing like Kylo’s weird smell of burning smoke. Always subtle, always him, always home.

 

He takes ahold of your shoulders, pushing you far enough away so that his hands can slip up to cup your cheeks. He looks at you, a smile playing on his lips. The pain and frustration in his eyes melt into adoration. Bringing your face down as he leans up, your lips finally meet in a cherished kiss. 

You could weep at how safe his lips felt, how familiar. You didn’t want to leave, yes, you could live a picturesque life like this. But alas, he pulls back, gently stroking your cheek as he apologizes. Over and over again does the word ‘sorry’ leave his lips.

 

“My darling, my love, forgive me. I can’t believe what I said to you. Words of a foolish man, I can’t- I’m sorry, more than you know,” he rambles on.

 

You hush him with another sweet kiss to his full lips, “Armitage, please, breathe. I’m just so glad to be in your arms again.”

 

He hugs you tightly to him, hand stroking your back soothingly. “I’ve been a terrible husband and an even worse lover.”

 

You pull back from him, a devious smile tugging at your lips as you walk your fingers up his chest. “Well… there’s never a bad time to make up for mistakes.”

 

He laughs, and your heart swells. Have you died and gone to a rich promised land? If so, you’re delighted to know that you can spend eternity with him. 

 

“Why don’t you sit on the desk and I’ll make up for lost time?  **We have to be quiet though** , no one else is allowed to hear your delectable little sounds,” he suggests with a squeeze to your ass.

 

You let out a squeal of excitement, leaving his lap to perch at the edge of his desk. He scoots the chair closer to you, gazing up at you with radiant awe. He rests his hands on your knees and pushes your legs apart as you bite your lip. The smell of your quivering sex hits you, potent and wanting, aching for him.

 

“Did you really do it? Take your pleasure into your own hands, I mean?” He whispers.

 

“A few nights, yes, I wanted you so bad. I still do.”

 

His gaze flickers from you to your clothed cunt, and back up. “Will you show me?”

 

You clench at the thought and eagerly nod. This is something you’ve both discussed but have yet to act on. Now that the idea is presenting itself to you both, how could you refuse?

 

He nods back, but it’s more to assure himself that you’re real. You’re real and spread before him like the most tantalizing meal in the galaxy. You want him; you need him, you love him. 

 

With shaky hands, he tugs your panties down your legs before discarding them to the floor. Your scent is overwhelming now, permeating the air with your desire. He presses chaste kisses up your left shin, ready when you are.

 

Holding his gaze, your right-hand slide through your folds, gathering the pre-existing slick on your fingers. You languidly thrust against your hand as you massage tight circles on your clit, feeling your arousal pool within your belly. His name is a whisper on your lips as your eyes slip shut. You add one finger to your weeping entrance at first. When one doesn’t satisfy anymore, you add a second, pumping in and out as fast as your wrist can go. 

 

He lets out a choked moan, and you open your eyes, almost cumming from the sight alone. His slacks are around his thighs as he pumps his cock to your little show. The head is swollen and red, leaking precum that you wish you could taste. His shirt is pushed up, caught on the chair when he sunk lower into it. You can see the soft folds of his stomach and the beads of sweat that fall into his fiery happy trail. You want his cock in your mouth, tangy and masculine taste flowing down your throat.

 

Your eyes meet, and you see in those radiant irises that he’s silently telling - no, promising - that you’ll have your lips on him before the night is through.

 

“Back- Back up to your clit,” he stifles out, “Rub your clit again, my sweet girl.”

 

You nod, following his instructions, and return your fingers to the bundle of nerves. Scooting even closer, he uses his free hand to place one leg over his shoulder. He playfully nips and sucks on the skin of your thigh, leaving his mark, so everyone knew who you belonged to. But Armitage Hux never liked wasting a good meal, so eagerly he buries his tongue into your dripping core. 

 

You have to bite your other hand to keep from crying out. He laps at your entrance, cock still in hand as he fucks himself on your taste. 

 

It’s all so overwhelming. Your hand on your clit as your husband feasts on you as if he is a man starved. That pool of arousal is burning bright now, building and building until you can’t take it anymore. You cum with a strangled sob of his name into your hand. His tongue coaxes out each wave of your feminine cream, swallowing it down greedily until he follows with his release. 

 

Two weeks. Two weeks without the warmth of your body. Two whole weeks without stuffing your cunt with his seed. How did he live without you for so long?

 

He falls back into the chair, pushing his hair back and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Both of your chests are heaving as you come down from your highs. But you’re not satiated, not just yet. Standing on weak and trembling thighs, you pull your nightgown over your head before letting it fall to the floor alongside your panties. His cock twitches at the sight of your body. The light from his desk lamp surrounds you in a golden halo. His darling angel sent from the heavens. 

 

You sink to your knees in front of him, pressing sloppy kisses to his navel. You nuzzle your nose into the soft ginger curls as you begin to slowly stroke his cock. He groans above you, overstimulated but restless to please you. With a few more caresses and some teasing kisses, he’s hard again in your hand. 

 

His hands brush through your hair, keeping it out of your face as he watches with a flushed face. You peer up at him through your lashes as you take just the tip of his cock into your mouth. You moan as you run your tongue along the skin, the taste of sweat and cum still lingering. He sucks in a breathless gasp, swallowing thickly as you take him down your throat to the hilt. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, a mixture of pain and pure bliss. 

 

Ever so slowly do you draw back until your lips rest against the end of his tip. You quietly giggle at his exhilarated face, eyes closed as he holds back his noises of pleasure. When you don’t move, he slowly opens his eyes to peer down at you. Finally, you take him back into your mouth, hand pumping what flesh you didn’t reach as you bobbed your head along his shaft.

 

It didn’t take long until he pulled your sinful lips from him. “Sorry, little dove, but I wouldn’t have lasted much longer. I need to feel your tight heat around me again.”

 

He has you stand and take your place back on his lap. His hands rest on your hips as he lines up with your entrance, and when he has it right, he slams you down onto his cock. You keen, arching your back as your loins reignite. His hands slide up your skin until he’s able to palm your breasts, rolling each nipple between his fingers. His mouth attaches to the valley between them, sucking his territorial marks into your skin.

 

You’re whispering and growling obscenities as you rock your hips against his. There’s no pace. It switches at whim between slow loving thrusts, to rough and dominating smacks of skin. He’s taking you higher than ever before, than you ever felt. It unfortunately can’t last too long. You’re both spent from earlier, and the feeling of being in each other’s embrace again is its own softer intimacy that heightens the experience.

 

His hands have moved to your ass now, his grip forceful as he repeatedly impales you harshly on his cock. You cum again, fireworks igniting behind your eyes as your walls clench around him for dear life. His face is still buried in your chest when cums. Your heated cunt milking his cock for every last drop of his seed. 

 

He pushes the chair farther from the desk, hoping the new air can calm your scorching skin. You hold him close, running your fingers through his hair as you stare out the window to the stars. Without missing a beat, he notices your focus has switched. It’s almost as if he doesn’t like you not paying him attention.

 

“I would give you every last star in this galaxy, and when I become Emperor, I can and I will,” he says, his hand brushing a stray piece of hair from your face.

 

“I’m so proud of you, Armitage. I can’t wait to become your Empress.”

 

After exchanging a few more lazy kisses, you both rise from the chair. He pulls his pants back up and fastens his belt be grabbing a tissue from his desk and cleaning the mess between your thighs. After throwing it away, he picks up your nightgown and panties from the floor. He stuffs the undergarments into his pocket before helping you slip back into the gown. Next, he ties the fuzzy robe back around you and helps you slip on your shoes like a prince from a fairytale.

 

He picks you up bridal style, and carries you all the way back to your quarters, even though you insisted you could walk. Once back, and both of you are devoid of your outer clothing, you crawl into bed together. Your head against his chest, legs tangled together, and arms clinging to the other. There you lie, with your husband, happy to have him back by your side.

  
  
  



	7. Hell Isn't A Myth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon requested: alright, so... "I will live with you in this hellhole, but I must express myself." and Hux, maybe?

“Must you do that while we’re trying to share a bath?” You scoffed, eyeing the loose cigarette hanging from his lips with disgust.

“You said that we were going to relax and this relaxes me,” he states matter-of-factly. You roll your eyes as he takes a long drag, purposefully blowing the smoke towards you afterwards.

Grimacing, you wave the cloud of death away from your face. “You told me that you would quit, Armitage.”

He sighs, obviously tired of the conversation. “That I did, my love. But, you know how stressful this job is. You don’t see me complaining when you take that extra shot, thinking I won’t know.”

You gasp, mouth hung open as you cross your arms over your chest. The water ripples with your movements, bubbles sticking to and dotting your skin.

“We’re supposed to be in this together…” you mumble, turning your head away from him.

“You were the one who wanted this! I told you not to move in with me!” His voice raises slightly in volume. Not yelling, but you definitely feel it echo off the tile.

“Oh! Forgive me for wanting to live with the man I love!” Tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes now, but you still refuse to meet his gaze.

“For the Maker’s sake, Y/N! **I will live with you in this hellhole, but I must express myself**!”

“Fucking pray tell, Armitage, how is smoking expressive?!” You snap, standing from the cooling water. Quickly, you throw on a robe as you hear him scrambling out of the water behind you.

“We’ve been over this! I’ve told you countless-”

“I don’t care!! You promised me! Do I really matter so little to you?”

“You’re being unreasonable, Y/N, it’s a hard promise to keep.”

By now you’ve moved from the bathroom to the kitchen, searching for anything that will remove the taste of the secondhand smoke in your mouth. He follows close behind, sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips. In any other situation, you would have called him stunning. Hair free from the gel hold of his daily style, wet at the ends as droplets of water dripped down his torso. Piercing eyes that contrasted with his skin, effectively glowing.

But that damn cigarette made him look disgusting.

“That’s not the point! You never keep your promises to me! I know work gets in the way but you don’t even try! And… I don’t know if I can take it anymore…”

He pauses before stepping to the table, putting the cigarette out in the ceramic ash tray that sits upon it. He’s quiet, looking towards the floor as he mulls his options over in his mind.

He clicks his tongue, meeting your scrutinizing gaze that softens and breaks under his next words.

“Then go.”


End file.
